Ecto Shots
by Phantom J. Ryder
Summary: Drabble and one-shot collection. Now playing: The Call- It wasn't her fault. She had tried to help, but it was too late. They were going to get him... and he blamed her. Will be updated randomly. Rated T for safety.
1. The Cardinal and the Hummingbird

**Blanket Disclaimer: **I don't own Danny Phantom, the human race, or ANYTHING else I may mention.

_Inspired by a rainy afternoon bird watching._

* * *

Not many people go for a walk in the park on rainy days, but if anybody had been out that afternoon in August, they might have seen a young figure on a park bench. With black hair falling over into the teen's eyes, he looked almost surreal. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen him rise-without looking away from where his eyes were fixed on the trees-and disappear into the forest. A bright flash of light appeared for an instant not far from where he was, and, through the drizzle, a faint glow moved away from the place, and came to rest in a tree.

Emerald eyes watched a small bird flit from branch to branch, wonder held in them. For though man tends to sleep when the sky is grey, nature seems to awaken from some long slumber. In the silver cover of a light rain, the boy's eyes followed the songbird as it preformed its daily ritual.

_Chirp._

Fly to a branch.

_Chirp._

Preen feathers.

_Chirp._

Prepare…

_Chirp._

Fly.

The Cardinal flew to another tree, and the white-haired boy's attention was suddenly captured by a brave little fly that had landed on his leg. He watched the insect, careful not to move, as it journeyed across his thigh and over to his other leg.

_It's like me, _he realized. _Always skipping around, disappearing and reappearing somewhere else… Never in the same place for very long._ He paused. _Scared by every little thing that comes your way._ The fly left the spirit to his thoughts. A small green blur and a soft noise made him look up sometime later. It hovered in front of his face for a moment then landed on a nearby branch. The phantom watched the hummingbird as it shook out its feathers and flitted off to gather nectar.

One last thought crossed the child's mind before he left the park, _I am one with things that fly._


	2. Confessions

_Inspired by my brother's white-splotched knuckles and my Youth Pastor's killer scar he has on his arm._

* * *

Dear Diary,

It's me. Today I made fun of Manson again. I know I seem shallow, but it was the big thing about my day. You see, I have a confession to make.

I knocked her books out of her arms in the hall and called her a freak. She told her friends to go on ahead of her. She sounded mad, which was the reaction I was hoping for.

She picked up her books and I taunted her again. The Goth glared at me, which was another reaction I was expecting. I prepared to make my next jest, but she leaned in and hissed, "You don't know anything about freaks."

By the way she said it, I could tell she wasn't talking about herself. She had taken offence as if I had insulted someone she cared about. Since Techno Geek and Loser Boy were the only ones with her, I assumed she meant Fenton. Why she would talk about her own boyfriend like that, I don't know.

But that got me thinking. Not healthy for someone of my status, I know, but still. I wondered, Why did I torture her anyway? At first it was just for something to do. Hey, look, let's make fun of the Goth! That was ninth grade, and now it's eleventh.

Lately though, my reason for picking on her has changed. It's no longer just something to do. The real reason I bully Sam Manson is because I'm afraid of Danny Fenton.

I know it's crazy. Me, the most popular girl in school, afraid of some loser with two friends. But I can't help it, he scares me. Of course, I don't show it. It's just, he freaks me out!

Sure, he's puny, and Dash shoves him in his locker a lot, but when you look closer at him, you can see he's hiding something.

He always acts like he's scared of everything, but I know he's not. Whenever a ghost attacks the school, (which is actually quite often) he is always the first to run off. You'd naturally think he's scared, but about a year ago I noticed he's always got this determined look on his face, as if he were running _toward_ something instead of _away_ from it.

Then there are his scars. I mostly noticed them on his hands and arms. On his arms, most of them are two or three inches long, and his knuckles are littered with white marks.

I first noticed them in Chemistry class, because he was across the aisle from me, with his hands resting on his desk. I happened to glance over, and noticed a long white line starting under his sleeve and ending at his elbow. I couldn't believe I'd never noticed it before, because now that I think about it, I'd seen it a few times. It just didn't register in my head what it actually was.

My eyes followed the length of the scar, then down his forearm to his hands. His forearms were dotted with red and white marks and a few purple and yellow bruises. His knuckles were practically white from the number of scars.

I also noticed in Gym or at the water park he never takes his shirt off. Odd thing to notice, I know, but it's true. I mean, all the other boys do, right? He always has a tank top on at the water park, and beneath it I know are more battle scars. You're looking at me like, Battle scars? What makes you say that? Well, I have no idea what kind of thing the kid gets himself into, but I just have a feeling those are battle scars. It kind of frightens me. How could such a wimpy guy have that many cuts and not even care? Even Star admitted something's different about him.

And the whispers. During lunch, all he does is mutter to his friends about something or other. I overheard some snatches of their conversation once. They were grumbling about ghosts and some thermos. They also mentioned a portal, and I remembered hearing rumors a few years back that the Fentons had a secret lab with a doorway to a "Ghost Zone."

It was then that I started to piece it together. Scars, hushed stories about ghosts, a secret lab: Danny Fenton was fighting ghosts.

Now remember, this HAS to stay secret, because I, the great Paulina Sanchez, am not supposed to be afraid of some loser like him.

* * *

_I know she's OOC, but that was kind of the point. Sorry if you don't get it. It's a bit raw, I know, but it's been sitting unfinished for a while. Yeah..._


	3. Flowers

_Happy Birthday Mom! This is a special gift just for you._

* * *

It was spring. The air was clear, birds were singing, and happiness radiated throughout the town of Amity Park. No ghosts had attacked so far, which was a bonus to the already perfect day. Pamela Manson was in her front yard planting daisies and roses. She was on her knees, just finishing with a plant, when her teenage daughter Samantha came up, chatting with her friends.

Pamela wished her daughter would spend more time doing something productive, instead of running off all the time. She was worried about her, and not just because she was overprotective. Sam didn't know it, but she had found the first-aid kit stashed under her bed. And it had been half empty. Pam knew it wasn't her daughter that was getting hurt, but she was worried nonetheless. What mother wouldn't be?

No, it wasn't Sammikins that the first-aid was for, it was that Danny fellow. That's why Pamela worked so hard to keep her away from him; she didn't want Sam to get hurt. But, her daughter was independent, so she didn't really have much of a say. That didn't mean she couldn't still fret.

She sighed and went back to gardening. She tried to enjoy the aroma of the flowers, but she couldn't concentrate. She wished she and Samantha could spend more time together, but they had almost nothing in common.

Sam said something to her friends, and they waved good-bye. She went inside, and then came back out a minute later wearing a tan gardener's hat. She smiled at her mother. "May I join you?"

A smile crossed Pamela's weary face. "Yes, please do." Her daughter knelt down beside her and dug a hole for the next daisy. She smiled as she placed it in and patted down the dirt.

For the next hour, mother and daughter peacefully chatted and planted flowers. When Pamela handed Sam a glass of fresh lemonade, she said, "I love you, Mom."

* * *

_I love you, Mom! Happy Birthday (and the same to moms everywhere)!_


	4. The Call

_Inspired by the song 'They're Coming to Take Me Away'. Somebody listen to it and tell me it's not creepy. PLEASE._

* * *

_Rrring. Rrring. Rrring._ Sam grabbed the phone, but when she saw who it was, she didn't answer. She had been getting calls like this a lot lately, and always at night. A siren had been wailing last time she answered, which had made the call even creepier.

It wasn't her fault. She had tried to help, but was too late. He didn't see it that way. After all he'd suffered, he felt betrayed—that she had broken faith; that she really didn't care about him. She did. But she couldn't stop the Men. They were going to get him, and she couldn't do anything about it.

It had been months. He had gone into hiding, to throw off the Men's trail. But they were still going to get him.

Sam brushed a tear off her cheek and sniffed. She remembered the first time she had gotten the call. She thought he was going to tell her that he was all right: that he could come home. She was wrong. He had cracked under the pressure and sorrow. And he called to lay all the guilt on her. Every night. And every time the phone rang, that ridiculous song came anew to her mind, every word as if he were saying it for the first time.

"They're coming to take me away." She whispered, tears spilling down her pale cheeks. "Remember when you ran away and I got on my knees and begged you not to leave because I'd go berserk?" She hadn't run away, she'd run to get help.

"You thought it was a joke and so you laughed, you laughed when I had said that losing you would make me flip my lid, right?" No, not laugh. Cry and scream, not laugh, never laugh.

"I cooked your food, I cleaned your house, and this is how you paid me back for all my kind unselfish loving deeds. Huh?" He had paid for countless Vegan Nasty Burgers. He had helped clean her room. And now he was gone.

"They're coming to take me away, Ha-haa! They're coming to take me away ho ho he he ha ha! To the funny farm where life is beautiful all the time, and I'll be happy to see those nice young Men in their clean white coats and they're coming to take me AWAY HA HA!"

The phone rang again. This time Sam picked it up and let the horrible thing with Danny's beautiful voice fill her mind… and destroy her soul.

* * *

_Songfic? Something else? You tell me? Of all the songs to get stuck in my head… I do highly recommend listening to it, though. Just not at night before bed. Thanks goes to my dad for helping to make this even creepier! Happy early Halloween, everyone!_


End file.
